


Cuddles in the kitchen

by thosewhitejeans



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: M/M, apparently I never posted this??, milex - Freeform, old fluff, shit title award, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 10:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17119241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosewhitejeans/pseuds/thosewhitejeans
Summary: Genuine interview with TLSP:Is there something you can’t stand about each other?M: “I’d like rather Alex didn’t scramble eggs that much. They turn out too hard and dry and I like them soft. I showed him how to do it several times but he just can’t do it!”Alex thinks about it for a long while: “Miles drinks too much Nespresso.”M: “he always gets mad at me because I take those coffee capsules with me everywhere I go!”A: “we always have a fucking luggage just for that coffee maker and his fucking capsules and I always end up carrying it! Alex, I’m carrying my guitar, could you help me out?”





	Cuddles in the kitchen

“‘Ey, wha’re ye doing? Ge’ ‘way from there!” Miles still looks sleepy, hair mussed from the night before, toned and tanned chest completely bare and shorts clinging low on his hips.

“M’making breakfast...” Alex doesn’t bother to stop staring. He is, as usual underwhelmed by himself in contrast to Miles. He’d glanced at his reflection earlier and seen dull, pale skin, tired eyes and messy, greasy hair. Even as he spoke he thought his voice sounded displeasingly groggy compared with the deep lilting cadence of Miles’ sentence. Still, when he’d glanced back at the sleeping figure in his bed, loosely entangled in the sheets he’d smiled and his reflection showed a happy man, so on balance he figured he’d settle for that.

“No ter not!” Miles proclaims, coming closer apparently so he can just drape himself over Alex’s back. Alex ends up smiling, secretly delighted by the man’s actions. Still he likes to be contrarian so he waves his wooden spoon around and hunts about for a pan, all still with limpet-like boyfriend attached. 

“Yes I am!” He insists. Miles whines at him. Lets him go as he yawns then stretches, eyeing him with some look of either disdain or irritation, Alex can’t quite tell for sure because everything is still topped off with the same hopeless affection he often does. 

“Wha’s ‘at look for?” He asks, poking around for the things he needs in the fridge. He feels self conscious suddenly, owing to Miles’ long drawn out pause as he just stares a bit harder, that affectionate soft looking gaze winning out. 

“Ehhh y’know I jus’ love ya,” he eventually states and it’s the raw plain and simple way in which he delivers the words that have Alex blushing furiously. He ducks his head for a moment, pretending he’s looking for milk so he can hide his blush but Miles as usual sees right through him in a second. 

“Oh my god you’re bright red, ohhh oh look, wow, oh god look at that oh my god!” He carries on for long enough that Alex can feel the heat to his own cheeks spreading and sighs happily as he feels Miles slip his arms round his waist and stretch to kiss his burning skin softly. 

“Shut up, Mi,” he mumbles but even those words are tainted by the affection that slips into his voice and twisted by his smile.

“Right put that down.” Miles insists, gesturing to the pan Alex is holding.

“What? No I’m... I have to do the eggs.” Alex loves playing coy, it’s always fun because Miles never realises he’s doing it in purpose and he gets so giggly and over the top trying to persuade. 

“Al, put it down.” He’s got his hands on his hips, trying to look stern but much too smiley. 

“No, I’m making eggs!” Alex sasses back, hands on his own hips and a little smirk creeping onto his face against his will. 

“I have to make ‘em because you’re the birthday boy and it’s not fair!” Miles proclaims, some weird accent or other twisting the ends of his words as he pulls a face that has Alex snorting.

Sweet. Miles has gone soft. Actually he’s always been soft, always trying to do things for people, for Alex. Alex just blinks at him though, rakes a gaze over him slowly enough that it’s obvious he’s doing so. 

“Mmmmh,” he hums, fixing his eyes back on Miles’ face in time to see the delightful grin spread across his cheeks, he turns back to the eggs, cracking them with force. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” Miles echoes, surprised clearly and Alex smiles gently knowing that Miles can’t see. “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex whips round, wooden spoon in hand and he waves it about dramatically.

“Pffft!” He smirks, prods Miles’s chest lightly with the utensil and he takes a step back. “You.” He follows him, pushes him back further. “You just want to take over because you don’t like how I cook me eggs!” He ends triumphantly, like he’s gr it all figured out but really he just likes teasing. Miles bursts out laughing though, adorable, that sound is so... expansive... fills a space so nicely. Alex giggles too. 

“Oh! Ohhhh you’re not even denying it, that’s SO what this is, you just wanna take over so you can make your stupid fancy soft scrambled eggs and prance around like you’re totally faultless yourself!” He turns back to cracking the eggs, smiles reflexively when he’s suddenly being held again, arms around his waist and squeezing gently. Alex can feel his chuckles. 

“I am faultless.” He kisses his neck, chuckling again when he scoffs in response. 

“Uhm... no I don’t think so Mr. Nespresso king!” Miles bursts out laughing at that. It’s a completely ridiculous insult if he does say so himself but he doesn’t care much for that, Miles’ laughter is too much right now anyway. 

“Yeh well I wouldn’t mind but you really have to take them everywhere?? An’ it’s always me ends up carryin’ ‘em!” Miles giggles all the more around a completely false apology and a feebly delivered: “oh come on you always insist!!” 

Alex looks at him with what he’s sure is too much fondness dripping from his expression. When Miles catches his eye his laughter calms to a grin and he nods happily, unfazed.

“Touché love,” he hesitates for just a second and then sighs, that smile hanging around. “You ‘ave t’ let me cook for ye though, not jus’ because of the eggs... I mean, I have showed you how to do it before-“ he cuts Miles off, smacking his ribs with the spoon and trying desperately hard to pretend he’s not terribly amusing with his fake posh accent and his “la-di-dah” hand gestures. Not for the first time Alex is struck by the notion that he’s utterly surprised anyone allows them to be left alone, and indeed by the fact that they ever manage to get anything done. 

“Oi, stop tha’ Al, what I were sayin’ is, I wanna cook for ye love,” he’s gone softer again, natural accent back again and voice gentler like he’s being serious. 

“Ever a romantic you Mi,” he chuckled cynically, although in truth his hopeless romantic tendencies have him swooning just at the tone Miles is using. It’s a bright and sunny Saturday morning, cold outside for sure but wonderfully temperate inside. The light is soft and wintry and hits everything just right somehow so that it feels effortless and breezy. 

“No Al really, I wanted to spoil ye, make it special, wake ya slowly... or not... make ye the breakfast, shower ye with gifts-“ Alex cuts him off. 

“Eh... go back a sec... ‘ow would ya wake me up if I was sleepin’?” Miles smirks. 

“Close yer eyes.” 

He obliges willingly, parting his lips gently in anticipation. Miles is close to his face, breathing gently near to him and getting closer and he leans in keenly when their lips meet. Miles steadies his with one had at the curve of his spine and the other up at his cheek, fingers up at his hairline and sinking in slowly. The kiss is mild like Miles is much sleepier than his previous teasing would’ve suggested, it’s soft like it’s wanting for nothing and it’s rhythmic like Miles could kiss that way forever. Miles pushes him gently against the countertop, and Alex wraps his arms around him, pulling him close with a sort of neediness he hadn’t quite meant to express. Kissing like this is always something so ridiculously intimate that Alex is sure time stops completely. His hands move of their own accord up and down Miles’ back, Miles’ lips against his stay soft so there’s no expectation of conclusion there. In fact there’s nothing in any of Miles’ movement that even vaguely more than tender and yet when eventually they part Alex’s chest heaves. He’s breathless, eyes still closed and cheeks burning hot, surely a deep crimson. Not from embarrassment of course but flushed properly as if they’ve pulled away from some teenage style heavy make out session. Miles too is breathing heavily he realises when finally he looks up but he’s watching him with a delicately lovely expression, soft eyes smiling. 

“Oh,” Alex breathes, voice suddenly hoarse. 

“Oh?” Miles echoes again, a raspy laugh following. “See there you go again!” 

Alex chuckles gently but he feels weirdly cocooned, like any sudden noise might be the exact definition of catastrophe. His honeyed gaze falls to Miles’ lips again and he leans in to press a soft kiss there in response, just a second long. 

“Well apparently I should’ve let you wake me.” He finally mumbles earning a little giggle and a nod. 

He slips behind Miles, hugs around his waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder after pressing a gentle kiss there. In doing so he’s conceded that Miles, in this doting romantic effort he’s making, may as well make the breakfast. Besides he’d never admit it but he does prefer Miles’ eggs and try as he might he just can’t seem to get them right himself. 

In the aftermath of the moment they’ve just shared it’s gone remarkably quiet but the silence is comforting, like overwhelming contentment. Alex smiles, leaning his head on Miles and shutting his eyes for a second.

It doesn’t take long for that silence to break. Miles is humming as he chucks bacon in a pan. Yesterday by The Beatles. Before he even starts singing Alex knows what he’s about to do. 

“Scrambled eggs, oh, my baby, how I love your legs…” he begins, pointedly looking down at Alex’s legs, bare since he’s wearing shorts, and raising an eyebrow. He’s in the wrong key and he’s giggling far too much but he carries on still as Alex rolls his eyes, stepping away from his almost desperate hug at last. He pulls out some mugs since Miles is seeing to the food and smiles back at the man dancing around ridiculously with a spatula in one hand and wooden spoon in the other. He presses the button on the Nespresso machine but doesn’t drag his eyes away for any longer than he has to. 

When they sit Miles presents his plate with a flourish, setting it down and kissing his cheek all in one motion. “Happy birthday, love.”

He’s sweet really and Alex feels suddenly completely overwhelmed, can’t even pick up his fork because he’s too busy revelling. Miles takes a sip of his coffee and moans exaggeratedly as if just to make Alex laugh. He does most things just to make Alex laugh he’s sure. 

“I’m sure it tastes better when you make it, love.” He smirks and Alex is back to rolling his eyes affectionately, finally picking up his cutlery. They do get things done when left to their own devices, but it doesn’t half take a while.


End file.
